


Terrible Sons

by ArthurtheGatekeeper



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Geralt gets named by Vesemir, Trans Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Vesemir loves his terrible sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25717045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurtheGatekeeper/pseuds/ArthurtheGatekeeper
Summary: Fate has deemed it that Vesemir only ever receives one thing from the law of Surprise. Well. Not just one thing. He's gotten horses and clothing before.But when the law grants him a child he only ever gets one thing. Boys. No matter what their parents might think.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir
Comments: 20
Kudos: 257





	Terrible Sons

Fate had a sense of humor.

It was really the only explanation for the children of surprise he’d claimed over the centuries. Sure it wasn’t always a child. He’d received clothing, horses, food and a wide variety of other things.

But they were always boys.

Always. 

After the twentieth boy he was honestly confused how their seemed to be so many women around and yet. Yet he’d not once received a daughter.

And then he did.

Except. Except he didn’t. He never got daughters. In the end he only got sons.

Which was convenient at least. He didn’t have to send them to Adela at their sister school for the trials. Got to keep his sons safe. Well. Not safe. But close. Close at least.

Even if they were all little shitheads. Leave the damn forest bumblebees alone!

But by the time he found the mage’s child calling out for his mother - he’d never figured out which was kinder. The mothers who abandoned them or the ones whose Mothers raised pittance objections. Making them think they were wanted. That maybe if they ran home fast enough down the snowy mountain she might be waiting for them. It just ended in frostbite and heartbreak.

But by the time he found that little green eyed brown haired child with short messily cut hair he knew he had another son.

“Why do you call me son?” The child asked.

“Because I’ve only ever had sons.” He looked over at them, shivering despite his cloak bundled around them. “Do you want me to call you something different?”

“Have you had a lot of sons?”

“Yes.”

“You are really old.” Rude. But accurate. “Eight sons?”

“More than eight.”

“Twenty?”

“More than twenty.”

“A hundred sons?”

“That’s fairly close.” He agreed.

“That’s a lot of brothers.”

“Hm.” He’d lost a lot of them over the centuries but, “That’s true.” They would have a lot of brothers. “Do they have a sister?” He tried again.

Their nose scrunched up and they burrowed further into the cloak, eyes slipping from his to the ground. “I don’t think so.”

“Do they have a sibling?”

They cocked their head to the side and considered before drawing the hood tight over their face and shaking his head. “Brother’s fine.”

“Well son. Do you have a name?”

“Moms not coming back for me is she?”

“No. She’s not.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why?” The question came from the tiny ball of his cloak. A passerby might think him a wadded piece of garment instead of a child.

He gathered up the bundle in his lap and resumed his steady stare into the fire like it might hold answers. It never had. But neither had anything else. “Because fate promised you to me son.”

“What if i don’t want to?”

“Then you can reject it.” He was the only one who could. “And you can try to go back to your mother.” Who left you by the side of the road. The bundle somehow shrunk tighter into itself. “Or you can come with me.”

“Are your sons nice?”

“No. They’re awful. Terrible little brats that start food fights and sneak out of their dorm rooms at night and don’t do their readings. Fate’s given me nothing but terrible sons.”

“And you love them?”

“Yes.” Not that that meant he could protect them. So many of them hated him for binding them to this life. But if they hated him then they were alive. And that’s what mattered. “Every last one.”

The fire crackled an popped and he watched the flames turn to smoldering embers as the boy swapped between silence and sobbing.

“Are you going to run?” He asked the bundle as dark fell.

“Will you chase me?”

“You’d die if I didn’t.”

“Then yes.”

“You are a terrible son.”

“Like all my brothers before me.” He sniffled undoubtedly getting snot all over his cloak.

He squeezed what was probably his shoulder. “Does my terrible son have a name?” He tried one more time.

“Not anymore.”

“Have to fix that.” He chided. 

“Parent are supposed to name their children. And she’s not my parent anymore.”

As if not wanting her love could be that easy. But “No. No she’s not. You’ve a new family now.”

A broken, messy, terrible family that would bring him a life time of pain and suffering. But a family. Which was more than he had now.

The little voice came again. “Parents name their children.” Oh.

“You can change it if you don’t like it.” He assured, shifting the bundle in his arms. “Let me see you or I’ll pick out something horrible like Vesemir.”

He lifted the hood revealing their green but red rimmed eyes. “Vesemir’s a nice name.”

“Well you can’t have it because that ones mine.” He sniffed him taking in his tiny soft cheeks tilting just barely into a smile and trying to imagine what he might look like after the trials. He couldn’t. He never could. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to just imagine.

“Geralt.” 

He blinked and scrunched up his tiny face and repeated the name a few times. Testing it on his tongue.

“Geralt.” He finally agreed. “Unless i think of something better.”

“Right.” He squished the boy to his chest for a moment. “Let me sleep for a few hours before you run alright Geralt?”

He looked away not promising him anything.

He really didn’t know what he’d done to earn fates ire but she gave him nothing but terrible sons.

And he loved every last one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> And then his terrible sons started bringing home daughters and he went FINALLY! Little girls! I bet these will be easier! And they were just as bad -if not worse- than his terrible sons. And he loved them too.
> 
> I might one day continue this but for now i'm just trying to add a little more Trans Geralt content to the world. Self indulgent fiction for the win!


End file.
